


A Lunatic's Lament

by hemogoblin



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Takes place in season 5, Unsub Redemption, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-07 00:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hemogoblin/pseuds/hemogoblin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After years of institution, a past unsub is discharged to aid the FBI in uncovering a copycat of her own case. Released into the watch of an injured Spencer Reid, the case's outcome is indeterminate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So this starts after the episode "Nameless, Faceless." It's how things would go if what happened in 2009 went about now, hence why dates may be off. I got the idea and liked it, so neh. If you don't like it, don't read. If you don't mind, I hope you enjoy it~
> 
> Edit, 1.13.2017: I wrote this as a baby freshman in high school. Looking back as a freshman at uni, this needs some work. I may rework it in coming months!

**Prologue**

"Reid, I need you to do something for me."

Rossi's face was on the screen and his voice came from Garcia's desktop via video call. Said agent stooped with his crutches, looking over the hacker's shoulder. Awkwardly, he answered, "Of course.. what is it?"

"I want you to find the file for the Logan Murder. Read through it, because it closely resembles the current case so closely." The black-haired man looked over his shoulder once, speaking to someone else briefly. He turned back to the call and made eye contact , even through the screen. "Remember the unsub's name. I just called the mental institution she's in and I need you to get her, unless Garcia would like to go."

Reid let the words sink in for a moment. He opened his mouth to say something, when Garcia interjected quickly, leaving him in a blank kind of state. With a sigh, he listened.

"I never volunteered, so I'm not sure why I'm involved with this unsub- _ex_ _unsub_ -pickup business. That aside, why are we taking a psycho out of the institute? No one in their right mind would let her, of all people, out. I remember one day, I was reading through old cases out of boredom and I found the one you're talking about... She could _kill_ us!" The blonde blurted with eyes wide, her red rimmed glasses falling down the bridge of her nose. Rossi gave her the I-know-what-I'm-doing look, and she spluttered at the intense gaze, "Sorry..."

Dark eyes returned to the youngest agent as he cleared his throat and spoke.

"I don't recall seeing that one, but I'll find it." he said, looking over his shoulder into the bullpen and back to the screen. "I'm just curious... but why do we need this unsub? She could be potentially dangerous, not to mention unstable."

Rossi sighed. "Look, I know her. I was one of the agents that solved her case. It's been ten years and I need her knowledge to figure this out. It resembles what she did so much that it's almost scary."

Reid's eyebrows raised. "You know her?"

"You _arrested_ her." Garcia corrected, looking over the rim of her glasses.

"I went to see her a few times in the institution. She's the most stable unsub I've ever encountered... Anyway, just... go. Read the case and go get her. I have the feeling that what she knows is critical to solving this."

"Alright... How old is this case? I want to know how far into the files I have to go."

"Ten years."

* * *

_**November 18th, 2002** _

_On November 17th in a seemingly ordinary Los Angeles suburb, fifteen year old Piper Logan was taken into custody, after doing away with her brother (Christopher Logan), sister (Renee Logan), and father (William Logan) with various methods. It is revealed that the father had brutally murdered her mother (Patricia Logan) in January 2001, which may or may not have been the teen's drive to kill._

_The teen, having earned herself the title of 'avenging killer', refused to speak to any that prodded at her doings, only giving harsh responses if the federal agents didn't back up the press themselves. Though, after briefly interviewing FBI agent David Rossi, it comes to show that this girl was an everyday teenager you may see, up until the death of her mother._

_Then, the tables turned._

"I can see where she's coming from, honestly. It was an act of revenge, although it wasn't the best way to go about it." _says the agent, before walking away._

 _After catching him a second time and asking about their so called 'unsub', he tells the reporters the following._ "It seems like the poor girl has a minor psychotic disorder. The negative event took its toll and made her lose what sanity she has. Her father, too, had a level of psychopathy, although it was far more serious than what she has."

_Photos from the scene reveal her final method of death bringing, applied to her father, was an acid dri-_

_**The rest of the page is torn and worn down, ripped off..** _

* * *

The light was blinding to a blonde as her cell door was swung open by a large man, flanked by another.

"What do you want?" she questioned lightly, setting down one of many books beside her. The texts lined the walls of the solitary confinement cell in stacks, some leather bound and others paper. Stray pages lay in one corner, sadly ripped from the spines from damage or age.

One of the silhouettes moved forward, jingling cuffs in-hand.

"You're being discharged... May or may not be submitted again."

" _Great_."


	2. Copycat Act I

**Copycat Act I  
**

_**Psychiatric Institute of Washington** _

"Why exactly am I being discharged?"

Spencer watched as a blonde was escorted from the depths of one of several hallways, face shadowed by a curtain of light hair. Two men were on either side of her, large hands holding thin arms steadily against her back; it seemed almost painful. He could hear the rattling of handcuffs and wondered if Rossi was wrong about this girl _. Was she really that dangerous?_

A woman in pink scrubs, whom the agent had identified and introduced himself to, rose from behind the desk, a file in her hand. A Polaroid of the woman, long outdated of her as a teen, was paperclipped to the worn brown folder. It was stuffed with numerous pages, probably reports of past outbursts and issues. This woman, Piper, seemed like the paranoid type, caused by the minor psychotic disorder Rossi said she had. The countless pages of notes and reports were expected.

One of the men pushed her forward to Spencer after the other unlocked the cuffs. He leaned against his crutches warily, wishing he could have done more than just watch as she was shoved around, mistreated by the institute's staff.

"If you could sign these release forms, Agent Reid…" the woman in pink said, sliding a stack of paper over the raised surface of her desk as a few final papers printed. She placed those atop the others and Piper raised her eyebrows at how the nurse addressed the awkward man.

 _Agent? He looks so… twiggy._ The blonde narrowed her eyes, shuffling forward to further inspect this crutch-bearing stranger. The grayed ends of her white pants dragged on the tile floor, making a sweeping sound, along with the light tap of bare feet.

"You didn't answer my question." Piper pressed, leaning against the high desk as the agent to her right began looking over and signing the papers, using the desk for support. His crutches were propped against it, pale metal standing out against the dark wood. Pale blue-gray orbs stared almost blankly, yet menacingly, at the scrub-wearing woman.

Said woman looked down awkwardly, before making eye contact with the blonde opposite her. "The FBI needs you for something. I'm not quite sure to what it is… you should ask Mr. Reid, but, if you behave, you won't be resubmitted. Though you will be under watch of a professional or anyone who would be willing to take on the task." she said professionally, voice almost robotic as she recited the words she had been conjuring up since the earlier call was made.

Spencer scrawled over the final line, flipping through several more pages to make sure he hadn't missed any, before dropping the pen and looking up. He took hold of his crutches and looked to the recovering psychotic next to him. She seemed drowsy and aloof, and the fear radiating off of the woman behind the desk made him a little nervous. Someone trained to deal with someone such as Piper was _scared_.

_This wasn't going to be fun._

Turning to take leave after giving a thank you, he leaned into his crutches painfully and waited for Piper to follow suit before actually moving. It was slow, and the blonde intentionally moved sluggishly to accommodate Spencer's pace. The click of the metal was almost inaudible in the silent lobby, accompanied by the light scraping of pant legs on the floor. The nurse nor the two escorts said another word as the agent and discharged patient departed.

"So, _Agent Reid_ , " Piper addressed, almost mockingly, once the pair passed the heavy doors fronting the hospital. The air was a warm shock to cold, fair skin. Her eyes narrowed once more at the brightness and she nearly let out a hiss, deciding that she wasn't fond of sunlight anymore, before continuing. "What use am _I_ , a killer, to _you_ , a federal agent?"

Her forwardness caught him off guard, he honestly expected her to be a bit of a mute. Though, she did press at the woman at the desk a bit. Looking at her out of the corner of his eye, Spencer made his way to a blue Volvo Amazon parked near the front. It was one of the few cars dotting the lot, as it was still quite early in the day. "My team's investigating a case that resembles yours, I guess you could say." he squeaked, attempting to swiftly unlock the car door. Unfortunately, he failed once, before finding success in another try.

The killer watched as Spencer slid his crutches into the back seat with some difficulty. He, then, slid into the old leather interior of the car and leaned over the console, fumbling with the passenger's side lock before getting it opened. Piper opened the door and hunched, poking her head in with wide eyes, the bags under them accentuated by the shadows of the car.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to drive with that leg of yours?"

Much to his surprise, Spencer saw through the tired look and took note of concern. No unsub was ever capable of really, truly showing concern towards anyone but themselves; although, some of them didn't even care about their own well being. It was a lot to think about, but he finally got out a response after a moment of unnerving eye contact.

"I made it here, didn't I?" he asked, locking eyes with this girl for a moment more. Although he indeed made it, it was quite a pain to do. For once, he wished he didn't have a stick shift. Pressing the clutch and the gas pedals, along with the brake shot pain through his injured leg, and the drive was a good two hours from the office.

The blonde shook her head. "You did, but, if I know anything at all, you're in pain. Let me drive." She made a 'give it here' hand motion and a facial expression that could almost be considered comical.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. This girl definitely knew how to read someone. The agent didn't recall letting anything slip about the pain he felt, yet she still saw through it. He realised that her capability, to profile someone so easily without any kind of training, was what Rossi was talking about when the task was given. Not only would her knowledge of the crime's events be a help, but the psychologically manipulative skill she picked up over the years would, as well.

Giving her a ridiculous look, he said, "You want to drive?" She nodded, and he continued. "You were put away for ten years… you really think you can?"

"Yeah, " she said. "It's a stick shift, correct? I learned with one."

The blonde circled around the front of the car, hunching into its frame with a hand offered to the brunette.

**…**

After the two hour drive back to Quantico, Piper was glad to get out and walk around, despite the sun being out. The hacker of the BAU called and asked Reid for a coffee run since he was out, to which he gladly obliged. Caffeine was appealing to the killer that accompanied him, so she didn't complain.

Penelope peered around the door of her office as Spencer entered the bullpen with a blonde haired girl trailing along behind him. She carried three cups of coffee, along with having a ring of keys between her teeth.

Taking in the woman's appearance – white pants, white smock, unruly hair and nearly gray eyes darkened from what she could only assume to be insomnia – she came to realise that the girl was the unsub-turned-assistant. She'd talked with David once while Spencer was gone, and, when he said she wouldn't look too scary, despite the violence she was capable of, he wasn't joking. She was short and skinny, yet well endowed . The years hadn't treated her too badly, but she seemed so… tired.

"Uh… Boy Wonder, is this her?" the glasses-wearing woman asked from the raised walkway, leaning against the banister of the nearly empty office.

Looking up, Piper followed Spencer to what she assumed was his cubicle - he plopped into the chair there -, letting the keys slip out of her teeth and onto the desk with a metallic sound. She could have said something rude to the stranger, but decided against it. She'd given the partly immobilised agent a hard time at first, bugging him to let her drive despite her ten years without it, and lack of general knowledge on the task at hand.

Though she seemed so sure, the agent didn't quite trust her. She had been locked away from even sunlight for years, so it wasn't so easy, as to let her do something of the sort so soon. That, and knowing well that she was still crazy, it wouldn't be comforting knowing that his life was in her hands; if she messed up, both of them could have died or been further injured.

Spencer sighed and spun in his swivel chair, tapping the keyboard to have his computer screen come to life. "Yup."

"Piper J. Logan, ex-murderer and psychopath," The blonde gave a mock bow and a smirk, looking up at the hacker. She took a sip of her coffee and slid one of the cups in front of Reid, continuing, "At your service."

Penelope blinked, before smiling. "She's so _cute_!" she exclaimed, bouncing down the walkway and stairs, into the bullpen. She ran to the wide eyed killer and squeezed her face. "Though, you could use a trim. But she has a sense of humor! It's surprising!" She took one of the paper coffee cups from the girl's hand, almost speaking like she couldn't hear her, and ran a hand over messy locks briefly.

Piper was at loss for words, and nearly dropped her coffee cup.

_First thing when she gets out of the asylum?_

_She gets called cute._

_That's_ _**always** _ _expected_ _, especially with what a fright she was._

"I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be flattered or insulted, " she murmured after a moment, bringing the cup of coffee to her lips.

Penelope's smile grew wider. "Crazy or not, you're adorable! I'll fix you up later, and all the boys will want you." she told the blonde. "You don't have anywhere to stay, right? So I guess I could take you with me and get you up to the times."

Piper opened her mouth to speak, to close it again. She shook her head and took another mouthful of coffee, wondering if this woman could go on forever. Or rather, if _she_ should have been the one in the solitary confinement cell with hundreds of books instead of her.

"Maybe I can even take you to the mall before it closes and get you some new clothes!" she beamed.

Spencer sat off to one side, just watching as Penelope rambled to a very confused looking Piper. He could have laughed, but he also felt a bit bad for her the girl. "Garcia, I… I think you're scaring her…" he said, taking a drink of coffee. "You should give her some time to adjust to being out before smothering her with your lovely personality and concepts."


	3. Copycat Act II

**Copycat Act II**

A pile of blonde hair lay on the bathroom counter in Spencer's apartment. Said man took notice of it as he awkwardly crutched his way into the confined space to ready himself for work. _What?_ Eyes narrowed and he hunched, looking at the strands. He made a face and peered out of the door and down the short spans of hallway.

"Uh... Piper, " Spencer called, eyebrows raised. He got a quiet 'what' in response and hazel eyes flicked back to the discarded strands. "Did you cut your hair before I got up?"

The killer had stayed with him, as she had expressed minor fear of going with Penelope. It was understandable; she wasn't quite ready to be overwhelmed and dressed up by the walking rainbow. Lord only knows what could have happened. That, and the sudden affection and cushy compliment giving the older woman bombarded her with wasn't quite her cup of tea; the twenty five year old actually took them quite childishly, blushing and stuttering, to get nowhere.

He heard her sneeze, followed by a muffled curse. "Yeah. Sorry, I got distracted..." she appeared around the corner and the damage done to her hair was revealed. Spencer opened his mouth to comment, but let her continue instead. "I was going to toss that wad of hair, but... books." The blonde gestured to the counter and pile of hair, and then raised a hand that held what appeared to be a Russian novella.

Blonde locks had been shortened from waist length, to barely reaching the middle of her shoulder blades. While it was messy, it suited the girl. Seeming to have her teenage mentality returning in place of the recluse's shell she created, it was much better than a blunt, scraggly look like before. Piecey layers poked out every which way and the fringe was swept partly over one eye, while another section draped over one shoulder with the rest down her back.

Spencer shrugged the best he could with crutches, before swiping a hand over the counter. The hair fell off the smooth porcelain top and into the small trash bin on one side.

"It... looks nice." he managed quietly as he wiped the remaining few hairs from his hands. Out of habit, he washed and dried them, looking back to the girl as he did. He was in disbelief with himself, though it wasn't noticeable; compliments were rare from him, but complimenting a murderer was on a completely different level of strange.

She nodded curtly in response and looked over her shoulder, slowly backing up to the conjoined kitchen and living room in the small flat. After a bashful thank you, she sighed. "You might be late... Best pick up the pace..." she urged quietly and caught herself, giving a small gesture to Spencer's injured leg. "Well, the best you can with the injury, and all..."

In all honesty, Piper hated to rush people, but thoughts of the clothes Penelope promised her the previous day brought forth the need to move quickly. The gross and annoyingly white smock and pants she wore from the institution were itchy and an insult to anything within good taste. Spencer commented before, that he was surprised Penelope hadn't ripped her out of the clothes the moment she saw them the previous day.

Reading a chapter more of the Russian novel she held, the blonde paced in circles restlessly. She needed to take her mind off of things, and subsequently settled on rattling through the scarcely stocked kitchen for anything appealing. She found coffee that may or may not have been good to use and opened it, making a face.

"Nope, " she breathed, turning and running a hand through her hair. She yawned and spun on her heel, as she heard what could be assumed as the shower turning on.

Within a half hour, she was ready to roll around and throw a fit, but fought the urge to go through with the childish action. Instead, she tried deciphering words in foreign books, grumbling curses in between as she referenced all of the Latin roots she knew of. Groaning, she attempted to ignore her rumbling stomach.

_Food was never a problem before._

She rolled her eyes. _I'd rather die than go back, though._ Minutes after, Spencer emerged from the bathroom in a rush of steam with damp hair. After picking up his keys, he called, "Let's go." Piper looked up to see him cructch into the room awkwardly.

Pale eyes seemed to brighten. "At last, I thought I was going to go mad - even more so than I already am." she said, placing a book in its respective slot on the shelf and whisking out the door into chilled morning air, unsteadily followed by the brunette.

* * *

Within seconds of arriving to their respective floor at the towering office building, Piper set down two coffee cups on Spencer's desk and bolted to the hacker's office. Despite her fear of the woman bowling her over with things of that sort, she enjoyed the trust she gave her, as well as the thought of new clothes. Wearing those damned institution rags made her feel trashy, not to mention how much she reflected on her doings while wearing them; the guilt seemed to grow tenfold.

Spencer quirked an eyebrow at the energy the killer held; it was surprising, but made sense in a way. He'd never had an opportunity to get on a positive personal level with an unsub as he had with Piper, even in the short time. Even still, this one was far different than all the rest, nearly a normal person. The one difference was her personality; the quirks of the insanity that lurked within a twisted mess of a mind. _Minor psychotic disorder_ was what flashed behind hazel eyes. Her disorder was incredibly minor - very much so. If he hadn't been the one to retrieve her, he honestly would've thought her to be the everyday person you would see commuting in the morning or even the afternoon.

The brunette relaxed into his swivel chair and picked up his cup of coffee, observing the excited Piper that skittered on her too-long pant legs that tucked under her feet. The rush made her look ridiculous, and the agent couldn't hold back a laugh.

Penelope smiled as Piper ran into her office and pulled a neon bag from under her desk. She tossed several articles of various colors to the smock-wearing girl and smiled. "The bathroom's right outside the bullpen doors, to the right. Go see how they fit!" she stated, waving a hand to urge the blonde into going.

After a thank you, she jogged out, pushing through the doors and mumbling to herself as she sifted through the articles.

Ten or so minutes later, she reemerged from the corridor, tossing her old clothing into the trash bin on her way. "Garcia! Why'd you spend so much on these pants? And how'd you get the right sizes?" she asked loud enough for the colorful woman to hear. Her face reddned as she opened her mouth to further complain about the cost of things and the types of a few, but held back.

The clothes she now sported were fairly simple looking to most, but were expensive brands. The pants were white-fronted and black-backed skinny jeans, a red v-neck, and white and black underthings - the last of which piper found to be quite embarrassing.

"I didn't look at your old measurements, _no_ , not at all. But... they're Tripp pants. You can't mess around with those. Besides, you look _classy_."

"I'm sure I do, " Piper rolled her eyes, face twisting with a smile. "Tripp was all the rage for awhile, I saw ads in magazines that came in. They're nice." She paused, puffing out her cheeks for a second. "But... then... the.. the..." She waved a hand in the air pointlessly, before tapping her hip.

Penelope shrugged and laughed at the blonde. "You seem like the kind of person. Sorry if you're not, I can always take you to get more things."

"Not meaning to burst your bubble or anything, but there _is_ a case to handle. I bet Rossi wants to talk to Piper." Reid interjected before their conversation could drag on. Knowing Penelope, she could definitely go on for eons about fashion and clothes, and then was not the time.

The woman shook her head, "Right, right. Rossi actually told me to have _Miss Logan_ talk to him as soon as you two came in this morning." Walking up the stairs to the raised walkway, she paused and looked at Piper. "I'm going to teach you how to do your makeup after this case, for sure. Nice hair, by the way."

Piper rolled her eyes. "Thanks. Makeup sounds fun." she said, tone dropping as she walked past Spencer's desk, scooping a paper coffee cup into her hand as she did. "I might not even be here after this case though."

…

Piper sat cross-legged in a swivel chair Penelope dragged into her office just for her, moving out of the way so the smaller woman would be in the camera's view.

"It's been awhile, " David's voice came from the speakers as the blonde woman raised her eyebrows, reading over a wild amount of papers. Her case was splayed over part of the desk, while the new one - the copycat's - was in her hand. She sifted through the papers, scowling at the photos and notes scrawled and sections that were particularly disturbing, highlighted in neon pink marker.

She nodded. "Quite some time." She took a sip of coffee. Setting down the cup, she picked up her case and continued to flip old pages, reading over the frail pieces tinged by time and dust. Scrawls of faded ink were over the pages, regarding various things that brought back small memories; little things, like the warm smile her mother always had, and then the results of her harsh acid drip that killed her father.

"I would ask why you lost interest in visiting after a year or so, but that will be for another time." Piper said, plucking a piece of candy from a colorful bowl on Penelope's desk.

"I'll explain once things clear up." David cleared his throat. "That aside, have you been reading over your copycat?"

The blonde nodded, folding her case file shut again, before moving to pick up the newer one once more. Fanning the pages out, she plucked one from the bunch. "Why wouldn't I have read it? It's why I'm here." she said with a sigh, eyes scanning the page.

"Well, this one resembles yours too much. Is there anyone who knew of your killings over the spans of time it took you to take out all of..." The dark-haired man paused for a second, swallowing thickly, choosing his words carefully. He didn't want to cause the girl any grief over what she did, no matter how much she really deserved to mull over it. "...them?"

Spencer sat across from the petite woman, observing as she made faces and drummed her hands - she unwrapped a piece of candy and popped it into her mouth, making yet another face. It was strange watching how she interacted with the same man that got her put into the mental institution. She held no apparent grudge, just a strangely friendly and somewhat serious energy.

"Thinking back on it.. there was this kid that admired me. She actually walked in when I killed my sister... Was my brother's friend, a few years younger than me." Blue-gray orbs narrowed and cast down. "I think she was twelve at the time. But yeah, she really liked me even though she was damn aware that I killed my sister and was bound to kill my brother, which indeed happened."

She slowly stood and picked up her nearly-empty cup of coffee. In the other hand was a page, describing the methods of killing, and several pictures depicting the gruesome acts were clipped to the back of the page. Taking a sip, she rested the cup in its place and walked to the nearly empty corkboard behind the desk, pinning the pictures and paper to it.

David's eyebrows raised. "How would she know every one of your kills so precisely?"

"I had a notebook full of various methods to use. Only a few that were highlighted with a damn Crayola marker were the ones of my choice." Piper paced slowly, bare feet softly padding on the dark short-hair carpet and off, onto the pink shag rug that covered most of the space. "They were all incredibly descriptive; I can almost remember what I wrote... I also made follow up notes, taped to the original page. They were points that I threw in while I did it."

"Okay... I just sent through pictures and notes taken on the new case. A book was actually found at the place one of the victims were kidnapped. This girl, she may have dropped it in a rush." David held up the book, scuffed and worn. Its leather binding was soft and had nicks in it, dust caked in wrinkles and dirt crusted the fold of the spine.

Piper pursed her lips and avoided looking at the other screens where the sent files appeared, leaning closer to the screen. "That.. that's it... Should have my initials on the first page." Eyes followed the man's hands closely as he flipped the worn book open. On the first page, there was a large black heart filled in with pink around three letters: PJL. She made a face and uttered, "But I didn't do that." in disgust at the sweet pink that splayed over the teenage scrawl.

"You never really seemed like the one for that kind of thing." David commented truthfully, flashing the page again. "But this isn't your handwriting." One finger was beneath a fresher looking scrawl.

_Lindsey M. Tyler_

The blonde scowled at the screen, backing up. "And, " she drawled, running a hand through her hair. "That's the girl's name. Fucking great, _I_ created a killer by not doing away with her when I had the chance."

David was tempted to ask on the topic and noticed Spencer was, too. The latter noticed a burning stare from the older man and pursed his lips. "No need to feel grief over it, Logan. Judging on what we've gathered from her kills, she might be more unstable than you ever were."

"Sure, " Piper uttered venomously. "This is my fault. Maybe if I could've just sucked it up and never-"

" _Piper_ , " David's voice silenced her before she could get riled up and hurt herself or someone else. "Calm down and think about something else. I think we'll need you out here for this to go well."

"I could accompany her if you want, " Spencer called from where he sat, hands on his crutches. He set down the cup of coffee he held and craned his neck at a chance of seeing the screen; seeing the older man's reaction would let him briefly gauge what the answer would be.

He knew it was probably a bad idea with his leg, but he wasn't sure if the blonde girl could handle herself for the five hour flight from Quantico to Los Angeles. She had been fairly normal up until that point, but when the killer's name was revealed, she kind of lost it for a second. That was what his concern derived from.

David made a face. "Reid, are you sure that's a wise idea?" The sound of paper being set down could be heard. Then Derek's voice was faint in the background, incoherent because of the obvious distance, though the older man obviously understood. The man on camera looked to the general direction of the voice. "He wants to fly out with her... Because the killer knows her... That's what I was thinking... Okay."

Spencer waited confirmation expectantly, watching as Piper flopped back into the swivel chair and pulled at her hair, resting her elbows on the desk. She picked up the coffee cup and took a final gulp, looking to the screen as she tossed it into the trash.

"Alright, Reid. If you really think you'll be okay, you can do it."


	4. Copycat Act III

**Copycat Act III**

_**Santa Ana, Orange, California** _

"It's been so long since I've been here, " Piper sighed as she entered the main room of Santa Ana PD, trailing along behind Spencer. Tired eyes flicked around the room, taking in the familiar layout of the building's interior; it was the same place she was taken to, before she was flown out to the institution in Washington DC.

David rolled his eyes as Spencer seated himself at a large oak-topped table, looking over photos and papers that were spread over it, while the blonde walked through the room at a leisurely pace. On her feet, she wore shin high marcie Doc Martens, yet another gift from the walking rainbow back in Quantico.

"It's good to see you, too." the dark-haired man said sarcastically, watching as the old acquaintance walked slowly towards a table near the middle of the room.

Piper shook her head. "You haven't changed much, David." she uttered, walking to the table. Her thighs pressed into it as she reached across, actually getting on her tiptoes, and slid the notebook over the surface of the table. Nimble hands lifted it and briefed through its worn, yellowed pages.

"I'm not sure whether or not that's a compliment, but hey, I'll take what I can get..." David gave a slight shrug. "I can tell you enjoyed your flight." he commented, noticing the young woman's disgruntled state.

"Don't even get me started, _holy shit._ " The blonde pinched the bridge of her nose and paced. "It was only a three hour difference, but I can feel jet lag - that shouldn't happen!"

"You know, jet lag is a chronobiological problem, and really only becomes an issue when it's a difference of three or more crossed timezones. If you were coming from a country on the Eurasian plate, Sweden for example, it would make more sense to why you feel it." Spencer rambled, "The symptoms are usually-"

Piper cut off the young genius and sighed, flipping the leather bound notebook shut with a clap. "Nausea and sleep disturbance, the latter of which relies on which direction one is travelling - east or west. Cognitive effects are present, as well, like poorer mental performance and concentration, headaches - I happen to have one - and irritability."

She dragged a hand down her face and groaned.

"I haven't been out of a building for ten years, let alone travel over numerous time zones constantly, unlike all of you agents, therefore justifying my feeling it."

"You're sharper than you were before, " David said, raising his eyebrows at her extensive knowledge.

She nodded. "When you have nothing to do but read books, most of which regard psychology or some other medical problem that could ever arise in one's life, you retain a lot of knowledge." She tossed down the book as if she was disgusted with it and turned. "Especially if you read it five, ten times, "

The rest of the team filtered into the room, raising eyebrows and giving concerned smiles as eyes set on the girl presumed to be the mastermind behind the origin of the current case. Emily and JJ exchanged glances, while Derek looked between the blonde standing near the middle of the room, with folded arms and bloodshot eyes, and Spencer, who sat off to one side, reading through papers.

"So... this is the girl from the Logan case?" Derek was the first to speak out of the newly arrived agents. Having heard the last of her spout of information, she seemed to be smarter than she appeared. The obviously Penelope-influenced clothing made her look like a teenager instead of an adult, which wasn't a bad thing; it just degraded her and made it seem like the killer's words weren't to be taken seriously, despite how knowledgeable she seemed to be.

"I... expected her to be different, " JJ voiced her opinion openly. She wasn't as concerned as she was at first; after hearing David speak kindly of the girl, she and the rest of the team eased up a bit.

Emily nodded in agreement. "A bit more... crazy, deranged looking... Not like the average young adult."

Piper gave a bow like she had the previous day, though a smile twitched at her mouth this time, instead of a smirk, looking up at the group through thick lashes. "Piper Logan, ex-murderer and psychopath." She cleared her throat and straightened up again. "So yes, I am the Logan girl."

David patted her shoulder. "She's always given a show when she feels patronised." he said, looking down at the blonde.

"What's that supposed to mean?" the girl grumbled, not making eye contact. Instead, she cast her eyes downward, scuffing the sole of her boot on the floor.

"It means you're aware of the hostile feelings people have towards you... Or rather, distrust, in this case. They have nothing against you - actually no knowledge of you at all, other than that of your murders."

Piper gave him a ridiculous look as he moved to stand with the rest of his team as Aaron entered the room, giving a suspicious glance at Piper as he did. "It's good to see you made it, Reid." he said, looking to said man, before shouldering past Piper to the head of the large table.

The rest of the team set in around it, waiting expectantly. After what felt like an eternity of making steady eye contact with the blonde furthest away, he spoke, "I think it's time the profile for this killer was made."

…

A large conference room filled with many faces. Newscasters with their camera crews, journalists with pads and pens, and local officers alike blent together in the room. After Piper shared general knowledge on the girl assumed to be her successor and minutes of talking and clarifying, the profile had been made in the small room in the office. A last minute press conference regarding the information's release to the public was arranged and the group hurried to the platform of the conference hall.

Piper offered to address the public, and, after a brief debate over it, Aaron uneasily allowed it. He wasn't too at ease with the killer, unlike the rest of his team, to trust the woman he was hardly acquainted with, but had enough faith in her knowledge to allow it. After hearing her belt things out like Spencer usually would - with more of an attitude, of course - he was surprised.

The blonde shuffled to the podium and rested her forearms on it lightly, before she straightened and let her arms stay near her sides. Clearing her throat, she began to speak, gray eyes flickering amongst the sea of foreign faces; she was nervous, but could definitely give the profile of the once little girl that presumably followed in her footsteps-

"Uh, as you've probably been warned, there is a killer in the general Santa Ana area. It is assumed... that it is a caucasian female, about yay high..." she waved her hand vertically at about brow level. "About twenty two or three years of age, with either brown or bleach-blonde hair and hazel eyes. The killer is an aggressive narcissist. Telltale signs may be lack of empathy, egocentric and pompous self worth, pathological lying, manipulative ease, lack of remorse or guilt, " She paced lightly across the raised platform behind the podium, making brief eye contact. "as well as shallow affect - no genuine emotions, and if there are any, they are incredibly short-lived - and failure to accept responsibility for her own actions."

She pursed her lips and wrung her hands. "Paranoia and swinging emotions or mood, too, seem to be traits to look for. Fear of being discovered would be eating the back of her mind." Looking back at the team for a moment, she sighed and added quietly, "At least that was my case."

"Another note to take - a socially... perverse lifestyle is, too, a characteristic. Look for proneness to boredom and lack of behavioural control, unrealistic life goals, _mimicry_ , " She emphasized the word heavily, in a dire tone. "...impulsiveness, a past of juvenile delinquency, childhood or teenage betrayal, possible accounts of animal cruelty, irresponsibility, and an almost _parasitic_ lifestyle. Other traits to be aware of are promiscuous sexual behavior and many short-term marital relationships, or even lack thereof. My final yielding words are these, "

Piper could almost feel the tense looks from the behavioural analysis unit behind her as she exhaled deeply, "The killer is a copycat, acting as if she were _me_. I am, unfortunately, a... redeemed... killer" The crowd audibly gasped and a small murmur started up. She held up her hand to silence them. "Ten years ago, I killed my siblings and attempted at my father's life. As sickening as it is, there is someone succeeding me and they must be stopped... Thank you, and please... focus on _this_ situation, and not who I once was."

With that, she took leave and went rigid as the press burst into a wave of inquiry, asking if she really was the same girl from the case ten years back, or if any further information could be revealed. Anyone in the room was surely old enough to have heard about it at some point and time, so it seemed to be an uproar.

Seconds after the killer's departing words, Aaron stepped in, in an attempt to calm the crowd.

…

Reid leaned against his crutches in front of a map, mumbling to himself in only a way he could understand. A sheet of glass was mounted over the map and countless lines and scrawls from a black marker crisscrossed on its surface. The agent had been working at the map for almost an hour, after the press conference went about, and hadn't stopped once. Well, he did, but it was to ask for more coffee, which led Piper to realise he was probably caffeine-reliant.

"This is ridiculous." Piper said blankly, watching as the tall brunette continued a scrawl of coordinates and red circles pinpointing where each victim's body had been found. "The bodies are... were everywhere. I never did that. I hid them in-"

"One place. Off to one side of the Santa Ana river trail." David cut her off, watching with folded arms as Spencer worked at the map restlessly, attempting to calculate a general focal point. He noticed the young agent scowl.

"That's where the first of three bodies were found, " Derek said as he entered from the other room, a stern look on his face as he looked at the map without invading Reid's space. "Another was found just northeast, off the side of W Life Drive." He briefly pointed to the red circle in the vacant space to one side of the drive.

"And the third was found near where Townley crosses Garden Grove, " JJ pondered, looking at the map, then photos from the various places the bodies were dumped.

Suddenly, Derek's phone rang. He dug it from his pocket and put it on speaker, "Whatcha got for me, baby girl?"

_"Well, I just found records of 'suspicious conduct' being reported out there. Someone - more than likely a woman from what I've found - walking in the dead of night with_ _something_ _over his or her shoulder."_

"When was this reported?" Derek asked, putting one hand over his mouth for a second, wiping away an invisible something.

 _"Uh... sometime during the middle of last week. Then the second and third kills took place over the next five days, and further..."_ Typing echoed through the phone speaker. _"...reports were submitted. Some of the night owls in the area saw the woman_ _three_ _times over that spans of time. By the third time, the murders had been taken account of."_

"And after three we were contacted, " It was David, this time, that spoke. He slowly nodded and brushed a hand over his stubbled jaw, eyes narrowing.

_"Correct. And it seems that a woman hasn't left her house in days... Northwestern part of... the southeast curve of Patti Lane and McEvoy...? If that made any sense. But she hasn't left in quite some time."_

"Meaning nighttime is when she leaves."

"Patti and McEvoy...? That's where our house was...!" Piper jammed her palms into the table as she stood, scowling and looking over the map from afar. Just as she did, Spencer turned, marker in hand. Three lines connected in one place on the map.

"It also seems to be the centre point. After marking where all the murders were, I've come to the conclusion that the house is more likely than not to be where the killer lives or operates from. If she really is striving to be like you, Piper, then it's highly probable that she bought out the place once she was of age."

The blonde cringed and moved to pick up the coffee cup she had been nursing over most of the hour, sipping at it with a newfound feeling of anxiety overcoming her. "Looks like I'm taking a stroll down memory lane."

An officer came in moments after, a serious and surprisingly fearful look on his face. "Another girl has gone missing."

"She's moving faster than before, " David said with a frown.

"That's because she knows her time is almost over. " Piper said hushedly. In turn, she got somewhat confused looks. "The final act. My second-to-last kill was by cutting my brother's guts out... The last victim had that done to him." The blonde swallowed thickly, trying to swallow the lump in her throat, as well as the inappropriately timed, psychotic bubble of laughter that rose at the memory. "My last attempt at death bringing was an acid drip, and it's about time."

…

After regrouping the team, they made their way out to the once peaceful looking house. The neighborhood Piper remembered as calm had a feeling of apprehension in the air. She actually hadn't wanted to go along, but she supposed she had to. Thinking of the events to come made her feel sick.

Black SUVs were parked along two side streets, blocking off the curve where the house was located. Without much cover, the agents and police had no choice but to hold off, sitting with bored expressions, until activity finally came from the house. A clatter and the door swinging open caught the attention of all of the patiently waiting group. Most were out of sight from the house, but two were parked adjacent from the place, in the driveway of a residence.

From what they saw, the description of the unsub was correct. The woman had darkened eyes and upswept bleached out hair; dark roots were clearly grown out. She carried herself proudly from the brief sight they had, and from first glance, looked average, though they well knew that this woman probably wasn't as she seemed.

"Logan, are you sure you want to go in?" Aaron asked, twisting in the driver's seat of the SUV to look at the blonde who was in the backseat, knees tucked to her chest. She nodded.

"I feel like I should. If Lindsey recognises me, she should cooperate."

"She might react violently, though." JJ said from where she sat in the front passenger's seat. The older blonde looked to Piper once the door of the house closed again. "If you're sure..."

"I'm willing to take a risk. Whatever happens to me in there, I probably deserve anyway." she trailed off, untucking herself. Slowly and quietly, after two 'good luck's, she made her way out of the SUV and looked around the area. She could faintly hear Aaron giving orders for places over the radio from outside the car, pursing her lips.

_I'll have people outside every window and door if something goes wrong..._

It was similar to how she remembered, though there were a few new houses here and there. Her old home was nice, ivy had overgrown and crawled up the pale peach establishment. White iron trellis spanned to the second story window, where the vines, too, spanned and wrapped over the window frames. The front porch was cluttered with a few chairs and a table, where a half-empty glass sat.

Carefully making her way up to the front of the house,, seeing agents and police alike moving to various windows and doors, Piper opened the door. It creaked and she cringed as if it was painful, glancing over her shoulder. She made distant, terrified eye contact with Spencer before slipping into the house. Taking a look around, it seemed like the average house- actually, better furnished than it ever was when she lived there. It made her wonder what Lindsey did for a living.

"Linds..." she called, walking into the living room cautiously. "Lindsey... It's me Pi-"

As if out of nowhere, something was smashed over her back. The air was knocked right out of the blonde and she hit the floor, gasping and clawing. "Fuck-"

"Who are you?" a raspy voice, filled with attitude, questioned harshly from behind her. "You're with the law enforcement, aren't you?"

_She didn't recognise me..._

Rolling over quickly, Piper avoided another object, this time thrown. As she turned, she caught sight of splintered wood and made a face. _What the hell did she hit me with?_ Pain tore up her back as she took a breath and her eyes turned to the projectile; a porcelain doll head, shattered. _What..._

"No, " she lied. "I'm... I'm not. It's me, Pi...Piper." she rasped in between breaths, looking up at the bleach blonde with watering eyes. The woman that stood over her gasped and bent over to pull the fallen woman into a stand.

"How did you get out?" she asked excitedly, holding the older woman's hands in her own.

Piper made a face.

_I'm great at planning ahead, clearly._

Shaking her head and forcing a pleasant laugh, she said, "I found my way. It was out of good behaviour. Anyway, I-" she stuttered senselessly for a second and bit down on the inside of her cheek. "You know what, no... no." She shook her head and sighed, as she ripped herself from Lindsey's grasp, she began to pace.

"What's wrong?" the hazel-eyed woman questioned, moving to put a hand on Piper's side. "Does your back hurt? I'm sorry, " Despite the sincere tone, the blonde knew her successor didn't mean one word of that apology. "I really didn't mean to. If I'd known it was you-"

"Stop. I was going to cushion this and make everything seem like it's okay, but really- it's not." The blonde shook her head again, looking at the other woman bitterly. "The 'I convinced them to let me out' bullshit is just so bad that it's humorous. I killed people and got it easy in a mental institution, when I should have been put up for lethal injection." Piper ranted, continuing to walk in circles, before she stopped and made eye contact. "And now, you _following what I did_ , I can't fucking believe it. Being admired is nice and all, but I'm the worst person to succeed, Lindsey, the worst."

"What are you getting at?" Lindsey asked, slowly backing up to a shelf. Piper raised her eyebrows and let out a real, hysteric laugh.

"You were going to be my fourth victim, is what I mean. If I could have just gotten through my father and to you, we wouldn't be here, now, would we?"

**...**

From outside, Emily peered in from the sill of a window in another room. She could clearly see and hear Piper's words and laughter. Seeing her slightly hunched, too, perplexed the black-haired woman. "What's she doing?"

"Negotiating?" she heard David's whisper from several yards away and shook her head.

"She's laughing..."

David made a face. "She's losing it again, we've got to get in there before she blows it and gets herself into something she can't get out of."

After a radio call, the word to go had circulated.

…

"You were going to... kill me?"

Making a face and shrugging her shoulders back and forth for a moment, Piper nodded. "Basically. I didn't want anyone getting in my way of revenge. Since you knew, and you were a dinky twelve year old with quite the mouth, I needed an easy solution, and death was it."

"I can't believe that..." Lindsey whispered, pressing her hand into the shelf behind her. Fingers found the butt of a gun, tucked behind a porcelain doll and a picture frame. "I _killed_ for you. I wanted to be just like you!"

" _I_ didn't put those thoughts in your head, I never really even spoke to you!" The blonde remembered the day before she went after her father, clearly yelling, _'Shove off!'_ to a particularly surprised and puppylike twelve year old Lindsey. "God, Lindsey, I was an ass to you! Didn't you get it? I could've died with a bang, my name everywhere, and wouldn't've had to suffer with what I did. Of course that couldn't happen, though!"

Another laugh escaped her lips. "Ten years ago, I was a revenge-seeking fifteen year old! I didn't want anyone around, let alone to continue- _copy_ what I did!"

Lindsey blinked back tears and nodded. "Okay, I see how it is. Ten years later, after you got thrown into a cell and lived easily, I strived and, now, _I'm_ the one doing the killing, and _you're_ in my way." she hissed. " _And I need an easy solution._ "

She lifted the pistol and pulled the trigger, just as several agents approached from different directions. As Lindsey pulled the trigger, a bullet buried itself in her hand, throwing off where the one she fired would go.

Instead of Piper's head receiving the bullet like intended, it nicked her shoulder and hit the wall. Blood immediately flowed from the long, stinging scrape, and the blonde rubbed her temples and laughed. A distressed and pained look took her features as she stood in a hunch, watching the scene unfold before her.

The copycat opened and closed her mouth in disbelief, before letting out an infuriated shriek and a series of curses, directed at Piper. Derek came up from behind and restrained her, clipping cuffs on her wrists. "Calm down and cooperate, " he said lowly, taking the chain of the cuffs in one hand while the other took hold of her shoulder. "Walk."

As the cursing woman was escorted out, David approached Piper who still hunched, taking in all that she had just witnessed; what she had caused. She saw Prentiss and JJ take in the damage done, walking around. She heard a faint, _'I think we found the girl!'_ followed by descending footsteps.

"Oh damn... The basement. Of course." the blonde sighed, wetting her lips. "I never expected anything like that to happen. I honestly thought I'd be dead by now."

"It's what I deal with on a regular basis, " the old man told her with a shake of his head. "How's your arm?" He looked to the blood-oozing indentation in the pale skin.

"I can't really feel it."

"That's probably the adrenaline rush. Once it wears off, you'll probably be whining."

"Shut up."

Rolling his eyes, David lead the way out of the house. Agents and medics rushed past. Piper looked around with a hand clasped over her arm, memories returning. Blood seeped between thin fingers warmly as she walked, attempting and failing to straighten up comfortably.

Once outside, the medics that had been called hurried about. One tended to her arm and checked the damage done to her back, while the others hurried in and out of the house.

Eventually, a girl was brought out on a stretcher, chemical burns - specifically acid - spread over her face.

Piper frowned. "That's my fault.."

**xXx**

" _Plus, if you're a copycat, you can never keep up. You're always in a passive position. You never lead; you always follow. You give birth to something that's already behind the times—just a knockoff, an inferior version of the original. That's no way to live."_ _  
―Jason Fried_


	5. Ride the Wings of Pestilence Act I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm basing the cases I throw together off of songs.... :D Just thought I'd throw that out there. Also, thanks for reading so far~

**Ride the Wings of Pestilence Act I**

A darkly-dressed teen looked on with wide eyes at a girl about her age who gave her a grim look and a laugh. Thin, mutilated arms were loosely cuffed, keeping the terrified teen close to the ground, on her rear.

The blade the other held glinted in the dim lighting of the room and exposed the reflection of fear in her victim's eyes, just as the mirror behind her did faintly. The only source of light was the wall of white shuttered windows; moonlight filtered through and cast patches of white on the wood, almost making the captor's eyes more menacing.

Expensive floorboards were pried up near the middle of the room, nails left sticking up, out of them. Grinning and moving forward, the towering teen made her movements deliberately slow, making eye contact with the girl even through the shadowy haze.

"You're so pretty, " she said, dark eyes flickering down to the girl. She dropped to her hands and knees and slowly prowled like a feline stalking its prey. The knife, still in her hand, clanked against the floor. "I can see why you've had so many boyfriends, and even girlfriends. But it's a shame that you want to kill yourself."

The terrified teen made a face; she'd been invited over to spend the night, and ended up being threatened. "What do you..."

"You're so popular, it makes me angry. You get all the attention and everyone just _fawns_ over you. I want to be like that, to fit in with everybody. I mean, it just... It seems so nice." The knife-wielding girl shook her head and laughed once more. "Tell me what it's like in your shoes... I want to know if I want to be you."

The ravenette backed to the wall opened and closed her mouth in an attempt to comprehend what the girl before her expected of her, before she cleared her throat. Uneasily, she began to explain things about her life; her mother's cancer, father's alcoholism, her sister's shoving her around, and her habit of smoking. Past relationships, and things of that sort came up, as well. Then came school life and popularity.

Her captor silenced her and grinned. "Okay. That's great... I'll give you a _much_ better reputation now that I know how you tick. You'll be a great new persona-

* * *

"Hey, Pen... Uh... Could you do me a favour and let go? My back hurts today, " Piper mumbled, holding her cup of coffee over one shoulder. She smiled and looked at her attacker, Penelope and one of her bear hugs. When it happened, she wasn't quite sure what was happening, she just got an overdose of the glass-wearing woman's favourite perfume.

"Where were you? When everyone came back, you weren't with them, so I thought the institution repossessed you, since the case was over and all!" she blurted. "I'm _so_ glad you're still here."

Piper shook her head. "Don't remind me of that damned place, please." She took a breath and averted her eyes. "I waited in Spencer's car, instead of hauling up here." she explained, before giving a self dismissive wave while mumbling something more. The tiny blonde huffed and flopped into one of two swivel chairs behind Spencer's desk. With a somewhat pained expression, the chair bumped into it and she thus dumped the agent's bag onto the somewhat mussed wood surface, seeming dissatisfied with the clutter of paper.

Penelope frowned and watched as she pulled her knees to her chest and sipped at the cup of coffee, keeping blue-gray hues cast down. The walking rainbow also took note of the dried blood stain on the white of her jeans; her brow creased as she turned to look at Spencer as he crutched by. "Do you know what's wrong with Pipsi?"

He cast the walking rainbow a confused look as he paused, mouthing 'Pipsi,' before it clicked and he nearly laughed at the nickname; hazel eyes flicked over to the girl behind his desk. "You know, she has a few broken ribs... The unsub smashed a dining chair over her back, "

Piper looked up at the two for a moment, faintly hearing something of a chair being smashed, before looking back down. She made a face at the top of her cup before she took another drink and pushed through Spencer's bag to fish out a book. She settled back into the chair and propped up booted feet, flipping to a page she'd marked with a sliver of paper.

Penelope gasped. "That explains why she seemed to be in pain when I gave her a hug, " she mumbled, looking sympathetically in said girl's direction; she honestly couldn't tell from her demeanor at first glimpse, but now the pained slouch became noticeable. "How'd it happen? ...other than the girl being crazy and junk."

Seeming to overhear the speak of the unsub, Derek added to the conversation, "She walked into the house and the unsub got her, from what I understand and what little she said." He moved past the two and over to his desk, sliding into the swivel chair. After relaxing into the seat, he looked up at the two. "Her arm also got clipped by a bullet. It bled a lot for such a small wound."

Spencer sighed. "I heard her up most of the night, too. Something more than the pain is getting to her." he added, leaning uncomfortably against his crutches. He briefly looked to the girl at hand, then back to his colleagues with unease.

That morning, he found the blonde lounging about on his couch, falling in and out of sleep, while reading one of several novels that were stacked on the floor beside the couch. The dark circles under her eyes made it obvious that she went without sleep; even on her first night out, it found her. The lack thereof was concerning to the young genius, and made it wonder what went through her mind.

Emily entered from the break room, stirring a cup of coffee with a stick. She looked to the group standing near the bullpen entrance and hurried over, tossing the plastic stick into the trash as she went. "Not meaning to intrude on the conversation, but I just saw the Strauss enter Hotch's office." she said worriedly, dark eyes flickering to each face.

Penelope's mouth formed an o and she looked to Piper over the tops of the cubicle walls. "That might be what's bothering her. She might have to go back to the institution since Strauss knows she's here!" She looked at Derek, then Emily and Spencer. "Maybe if we intervene we can keep her? I really don't want to see her go back there."

"Even though we're hardly acquainted, I don't want her to either, honestly. She isn't all that bad..." Emily trailed off. "But what are we to do? If we got her permanent discharge granted through paperwork, she'd have to sit in there for awhile anyway."

"I think the only way we can keep her out, is if one of us takes responsibility of her, or if an outsider, such as a family member, would want to." Spencer said. He got a few strange looks from his colleagues, and cleared his throat. "Once she was brought out of the ward, the woman at the desk said someone would have to 'take responsibility,' so it's just like gaining custody of a child, in a sense."

"But she's nothing like a child, so it's got to be at least a bit different than the court paperwork. Besides, she isn't exactly deemed normal... It's not normal for unsubs to be temporarily taken out, let alone permanently." Derek said, looking from face to face. "And having a few agents like her isn't always the best reasoning to have someone taken out of the ward."

As their conversation drawled on in a murmur, David emerged from his office and checked in with Piper, who hardly responded with her worry, gave her one of his rare smiles, and walked to the still conversing group. "I knew at least Garcia would be bumbling about Piper and the institution today, so I brushed up on mental ward conditions." he said with a sigh. He brought his coffee cup up for a drink and continued. "She needs to be under nearly constant watch for at least a year post-release... Any takers?"

The group exchanged glances and were about to start a debate over it, when they stopped and eyes flicked to the raised walkway.

Then, JJ came down with a stack of case files in her hands. "Sorry guys, new one already." she said as she briskly walked around the bullpen, passing folders to each of the team members. Stopping at Piper, she caught the young blonde's attention. When she looked up, the older woman slid it in front of her with a smile.

Piper looked up with something close to an awestruck look on her face; she expected to have a submission notice being slid to her, not a case file. Searching for words, the blonde picked up the file and rifled through it. "I, uh... I don't get it..." she murmured.

"Be in the conference room in a few." JJ explained lightly as she began to walk. She pointed to one far hallway branching off the main office. "It's at the end of that hall." With one final smile, she whisked off to the room she spoke of.

Piper gave a skeptical look and rose from the swivel chair uncomfortably. Smoothing a hand over the bump on her ribs, she grabbed her coffee cup and slowly followed in the direction JJ went.

…

"So this new case is kind of.. different. A teen was found under the floorboards of a vacationing family's house, with parts of her skinned. Her eyes are missing, throat's slit, clothes are missing, and it seems that a good portion of her blood was drained and possibly contained." JJ explained, gesturing to the screen as various photos from the scene flashed on the screen behind her. "No more than a splatter from the killing wound and the majority of her blood isn't anywhere in the house."

Penelope nodded from where she sat at the head of the black table, hand hovering above the mousepad on her laptop. "She was identified as Amelie Jarvis, a suicidal teenager in Ridgewood, Queens. Freshman, popular amongst the emo crowd, smoker."

"Queens, New York?" Derek asked quickly, scowling as he flipped through the case file.

Aaron made a face and mouthed, 'emo,' before asking, "What exactly is 'emo?'"

The glass-wearing woman gave a confirming hum and tapped at her laptop, uttering, "It means emotional.. It's a fashion statement based after how the emo bands dressed, et cetera. Kind of like the goth scene." Both men nodded as photos of both victims - high school yearbook photos, flanked by postmortem - flicked onto the screen.

"She and the previous victim, Harley Miller, both lived in Ridgewood and attended Ridgewood High as Freshmen. Miller was also found in a vacationing family's home, discovered just a few days ago. Jarvis was found this morning."

"Well, isn't this just pleasant?" David said rhetorically, looking from the screen to the pages in the file. "I've honestly never seen someone skinned before."

Piped swallowed dryly and thought aloud, "Maybe taking the skin and clothes is like a sick trophy? Or just a symbol of success." She shook her head and tried to force down a mouthful of coffee that was steadily losing heat. "The blood has me stumped, though."

"Could be... But this is different, by far." Aaron said.

Emily raised her eyebrows at the screen. "It almost seems like literal identity theft."

…

As the team filtered out of the conference room, Erin caught Piper and pulled her to the side. The blonde's eyes went wide and she nearly crushed the nearly empty coffee cup in her hand.

The pair talked in hushed voices for several moments, walking down the hall to the bullpen again.

Slowly walking ahead, Penelope noticed the section chief speaking to the small blonde about something. She hurried over to Spencer and tapped his desk to get his attention. "Strauss is talking to Piper!" she whisper-yelled urgently with wide eyes.

Spencer looked up and craned his neck to, indeed, see what Penelope was ranting about in a hushed voice. "I wonder what about..." he mumbled, trying to see facial expressions that might have given away what was being said. The young genius honestly wasn't the best at reading lips, so expressions were his cues.

Erin's back was to him, and he could see Piper's face. She seemed unamused at the very least, expression a silent taunt with unblinking pale eyes... _how unnerving_. She said something rather informant from what he saw.

Piper tossed her coffee cup into a waste bin and glared at the woman, snapping something, proceeding to look down. Erin, in turn, seemed to have kept her cool and explained easily, something that caught the twenty-five year old's attention. Before walking away, she added one last bit of information and proceeded to leave.

The small blonde was left glaring at the back of the woman's head, before she resumed her pace through the office. "Penelope, " she called, still quite a ways away. She felt her stomach growl and made a face, before looking up.

"What did Strauss talk to you about?"

"I'd rather not talk about it no-"

"Oh my God, you're going back to the institution, aren't you?"

"Penelope, "

"I don't want you to go!" the glass-wearing woman blubbered, squashing Piper's face in her hands. "You're just so cute and short and crazy." She sighed.

"Being crazy is a good thing?" the other asked quietly, diverting her attention from the short comment. "But it's pertaining to that hell hole. She made some conditions with me."

Penelope squealed and hugged Piper again, who squeaked out a 'let go.'

"Oh Jesus, my ribs, " she gasped upon release. "You have to be more careful with that kind of thing, Pen. Anyway, I was wondering if you had concealer." She gestured to the dark under her eyes. "I need to look more... alive. I'm going on this new case."

Grinning, the other woman nodded and bounced off to her office after giving another light hug to the blonde girl.

"We're leaving in an hour, " Aaron called from the head of the bullpen, watching as the team moved about.


End file.
